An Unintended Meeting
by Xzeihoranth
Summary: The RED and BLU teams, former mortal enemies, take a break from slaughtering robots to witness something unusual, even for them.
1. Chapter 1

The scene: Mann Co's Bigrock facility. A ragtag group of mercenaries, once employed by two squabbling brothers, have been brought here by their Administrator in the middle of an all-out war against a horde of robots created by the third brother, who had been raised by eagles and now seeks to rule the world. Having routed the would-be invaders, the mercenaries now wait impatiently, as they were instructed. Deep in the mines and mere feet from the now-empty carrier, the BLU Demoman, wearing his old uniform out of sheer habit, takes a long drink from his bottle of scrumpy. He either doesn't notice that it's already empty, or he doesn't care. After letting out a contented belch, he turns to the RED Spy standing beside him with his arms folded. "Did that shoutin' lady say WHEN our new guests'd be arrivin'?" he slurs.

"No, she did not." the Spy replies, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "Although I hazard a guess that the real question is not when they arrive, but why. There are schemes within schemes, and she does not tell us even half of what she knows."

"Ahh, you worry too much, ya chain-smokin' French bastard," the Demoman says, clapping his new comrade on the back. The Spy grimaced. "But y'know what? I think I like you anyway. Even'f you did kill me."

"You are a Scotsman and a perpetual drunk besides." the Spy mutters. "I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies..."

* * *

The BLU Sniper surveys the cavern with a practiced eye. The robots may have been driven back for now, but if there's anything he's learned in his career, it's that the only safe place is as far from the battlefields as humanly possible. So he keeps his Headtaker close by, and bends an ear to the wind every now and again to try and catch the tell-tale horn of an approaching convoy. This time, he hears something different. A murmur of voices, unlike any of his friends or foes alike. He turns around, hand stealing toward his Bushwacka. There's a glimmer of light in the corner of his eye and he dives for his rifle. Slowly, he peers over the railing through his scope. The light is coming from the caves and grows brighter by the second. "Now what in the name of Saxton Hale's bristled chest-hair is goin' on in there?" he whispers.

* * *

The RED Scout and his sister pass the time by playing catch. Instead of the customary leather-bound ball, they bat the decapitated head of a robot Spy back and forth in front of the base. "Hah! Seven hunnid 'n' twenny one ta seven hunnid twenny two!" his sister brags. "I win, I win, IwinIwinIwin! Again!"

"No fair, I got sand in my eye!" the boy complains.

"Ya want me to lick it 'n' make it bettah?" his sister retorts.  
"What are you, insaiyan?"

She takes a long drink of her Atomic Punch. "Maybe. But who's complainin'? I get da job done." It was her job to serve as a distraction and cash-collector during the invasions, a task she was very much suited for. (For reasons none of the higher-ups cared to explain, the robots all seemed to run on money, which she had been told many times was to be used solely for the war effort.) Her Blaster might not do as much damage as her normal scattergun, but once she got it up and running, she could run circles around the robots, almost twice as fast as her brother, taking swats at exposed circuitry with her ever-present frying pan. And if the Pyros got too hot to handle, safety was a sodacan away.

Her brother softened up tougher targets from afar with his Sandman and cleaver combination; reluctant though they might be to admit it, the RED Engie's sentries and the BLU Soldier's haphazard barrage of rockets both benefited from his assistance.

A familiar voice comes over the loudspeakers, a cold, impersonal, endlessly sarcastic voice. "If you're quite finished lounging about, the frontlines report that our visitors have arrived. I'm sure I won't need to remind you to be on your best behavior."  
The Scout rolls his eyes. "Behaviah, schmahaviah. What's so special 'bout a bunch of bigwigs beamin' in from headquartahs?"

His sister points behind him. "Those don't look like no bigwigs I evah saw." He turns and lets out a very loud, very impressed whistle. His sister promptly sprints over and slaps the back of his head, sending his Fed-Fightin' Fedora (with added sparkles) flying. "Hey! What was dat all about?" he demands as he scuttles after it.

"Didn't ya heah da 'dministratah? She said ta be polite...but ta hell with dat. Dat guy's dreaaaamy!"

"He's old enough ta be ya frikkin' dad!" her brother shouts, brushing the dust from his prized headgear.

"Aw, he can be my dad any day!" she grinned.

* * *

The RED Heavy and BLU Medic, despite their former violent opposition, had become fast friends. With their own partners on other assignments, it fell to them to take the brunt of the enemy fire. The Medic always had difficulty choosing between his beloved original medigun, dubbed the Quick-Fix upon his invention of the main one, and the Kritzkrieg. ("Zere is something about ze sound of robots screaming zat fills me with endless joy!" he'd confided to Archimedes one evening.) The Heavy didn't much care; death was death. All he cared about was preventing shrapnel from scratching his beloved Sasha.

He was currently attempting to teach the Medic how to dodge. To this end, he'd fastened a pair of brass knuckles upon his massive fists and began firing punch after punch after punch at almost imperceptible speeds. As the Scouts put it, "It's like one o' my Japanese animeys!"

"Left! Right! Left left! Right left! Right left right! Left left right left right left right!" the Heavy is bellowing. The Medic does his best, but even a glancing blow from the Eviction Notice stings like the dickens. He's no stranger to pain, having inflicted much upon himself and others in the name of SCIENCE, but his mediguns are being refueled, so every time the Heavy lands a hit, he's forced to retreat to rebandage himself.

* * *

The RED Engineer and BLU Pyro are forced to entertain themselves while they wait for their guests. The Engineer tightens a few bolts here and there, recalibrates the targeting programs on the big and little sentries alike; while the Pyro giggles to itself, juggling its Triboniophorus Tyrannus with surprising dexterity.

"I just don't know what y'see in that thing," the Engineer sighs as he wipes the sweat from his brow. "Actually, now I come to think of it, I don't know what y'see per-ee-uhd." The Pyro looks up at him, its gas-mask-covered-face betraying no emotion it might or might not be feeling.

"Murr hurr murr muhhmyy?" it mumbles.

The Engineer ponders what that might mean, when his Pip-Boy bleeps at him. "Unidentified target? Guess that'll be those dang visitors we been hearin' so much about." He walks over to his teleporter. "I'll be right back, y'hear?" The Pyro shrugs non-committally, but as soon as the Engineer fades from sight, it scrambles for its hatbox. It stops to admire its reflection in the dispenser's viewport as it tries on various bonnets and frilly wigs, with an occasional mutter to the squishy green blob that it's placed atop the hatbox. The blob says nothing in response, but the mysterious masked menace doesn't mind.


	2. Chapter 2

From one war to another. A battle in the sky onboard a massive zeppelin to a battle between ten mercenaries possessing various degrees of sanity and gun-metal-grey robots that look suspiciously similar to the mercs they fight and die with.

"Remind me again why we're here?" Booker DeWitt asks as he and his daughter step blinking into the desert sunlight.

"This place is...well, different. There are so many little tears just waiting around every corner." Elizabeth says. They're approaching a large abandoned building, with only one other person in sight. He tips his boater to them respectfully as they pass. Elizabeth waves in response.

"Did you see that light around him? It's like the universe knows he's replaceable." she says as they move out of earshot.

Booker grunts. Too many shuttered windows, and not a skyhook in sight. If this meeting goes bad, he's not sure even a Bucking Bronco will save them in time. A beep sounds and he turns to face the source, gun at the ready. A tiny machine on three legs flashes its headlight at them both warningly, before it's boxed up by a short man in red clothes, wearing a plain white cowboy hat. He sees Elizabeth, and bows low hastily, doffing his hat as he does. Booker holsters his handcannon but doesn't take his eyes off the stranger until he takes his toolbox and retreats into the shed. (Just before he steps onto the teleporter to return to his base, he hears a woman's voice behind him. "Quantum tunnelling devices in such a compact form. You must tell us your secret.")

They're in sight of the main base now: a large brick building with an electric sign reading "MANN CO" halfway up the facade. A young boy waiting near the entrance lets out a wolf-whistle when he sees Elizabeth approaching. She blushes, smiles slightly, but his attention has been diverted bya girl darting up behind him and slapping his hat away. She shrugs at them apologetically and stares fixedly at Booker, who fights the urge to blush himself. "Did that kid bother you?" he asks his daughter.

"No, no, he was nice." she assures him. "Hey, looks like the gang's all here." She points to the entrance of the building, where all ten mercenaries are waiting. The BLU Soldier lifts his comically large hat up to get a better look, and the RED Scouts nod briefly at each other before they yank it down over his head. His muffled curses and yells make Booker clamp his hands over Elizabeth's ears. "Hey!" she yelps.

"You'll thank me later. That bastard's got a sailor's mouth on him." he says. She gestures in confusion at him; she can't hear what he said. She pulls his hands away and glares at him, but at least the man's stopped swearing now.

They come to a halt before the small crowd, and the sarcastic woman's voice comes over the loudspeakers. "I _hoped _that the sight of civilians-" (Booker grins at the thought of being considered a civilian) "-would have you miscreants behaving a little more like the men and/or women I've been paying you NOT to be. However, we will discuss that later. Mister Hale and his scientific advisors (I use the term 'advisors' loosely; as you know, he rarely takes any advice but his own) have been studying the people in front of you and determined that the facility you are touring is located on top of a nexus of power, which to their disappointment they have been unable to exploit. This nexus is the sole reason these two are here. They are not to be pestered or provoked in any way. If you _have_ any loved ones, say goodbye to them now."

The mercenaries mutter to themselves in confusion.

"Powah nexus? What da h-e-hockeystick hockeystick is dat supposed ta mean?"

"Ach, if only I'd thought to bring Archimedes! He would have found zis most instructive!"

"What is the little woman going to do?"

Booker put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "All yours."

She nods. "You might want to stand back. This could be dangerous."

"Danger? Hah. Can't be any worse than having your big eagle try 'n' savage me."

She shrugs. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She steps onto a metal hatch behind her and a familiar expression crosses her face. It's the look of the lighthouse. She holds out her hands in front of her, the way she'd done when Songbird destroyed what was left of the siphon. They're trembling. Suddenly, she pulls them down to her side. Clenches them into fists. And as a strange breeze begins to blow, Elizabeth (in another life known as Anna DeWitt) starts to scream.

There was no pain in her voice, unlike the screams she'd made in that nightmare called Comstock House. It reminds Booker of himself as he'd exert his not-unremarkable strength lifting doors back in Columbia. But there was no door that he can see, just her.

The breeze becomes a gale, the gale becomes a hurricane. The mercenaries are barely on their feet: the Soldier holding desperately onto his hat as he crouched in a hole that he'd dug himself, the Medic clinging to Heavy's stomach to keep from being whipped away, and the Scouts yelling in terror up by the MANN CO sign.

Booker grita his teeth and shields his eyes with a hand. The energy flowing from his daughter as she continues to scream...feels good somehow. It doesn't make it any easier to stand where he is, but he's never been one to give up and roll over. So he stays put as a brilliant blue light builds around Elizabeth and the wind continues to howl. The tears and tatters of her dress mend; the bruise by her eye fades. And, though no one sees it, the wound in her back seals itself up.

Yet she doesn't stop, not even as the Engineer's buildings finally give way and shatter into fragments of metal which are whipped away out of sight. She keeps yelling, keeps flexing, keeps channelling...

Booker takes a heavy step forward into the wind. He pauses, gathers his own meager energy, and does it again. An eternity or five seconds later, he stands on the hatch as well. The power is so strong here that it forces him to his knees, but he keeps his eyes fixed on his daughter. He wouldn't miss this for the world.

Her eyes meet his. She nods. He struggles to return the gesture. And just like that, it's over.

The Pyro runs off to look for its hats, while everyone else staggers to their feet. Booker is the first to get up. Somewhat to both of their surprise, he doesn't rush to hug her. Instead, he just looks at her. She still looks like Elizabeth, but she feels even more like her. She isn't carrying the world on her shoulders anymore. She can be happy again.

As she steps forward calmly, Booker wonders what they'll do now. All she could talk about as they stood knee-deep in the clear and innocent water was that it wasn't their fight anymore. She'd been very insistent on that. After a long futile argument, he'd let her take him through the door again. When the blinding light cleared, he saw a nondescript man wearing a nondescript gray suit and carrying a nondescript brown briefcase. He spoke cryptically to Elizabeth, but although Booker had been standing right beside her, he heard only mumbling. After a short discussion, the man gave an almost invisible nod, straightened his tie and walked past Booker to the door. When he reached it, it opened for him to reveal the Luteces waiting on the other side. He made no visible reaction but stepped forward to join them. He turned around stiffly to close the door, and the last Booker saw of him was a pointed smile.

Booker's flashback is cut short by Elizabeth calling his name. "What was that? I faded out there for a second." he apologizes.

"We're all done here. Do you want to go?" she repeats.

He looks at the mercenaries, busy dusting themselves off and staring wide-eyed at the two of them. "Yeah. Don't matter where. Just someplace a little less crazy'd be nice." he says.

"Sure thing!" she says. With a snap of her fingers, the world changes.

**The song of hats and particles may be over, but our two leads go Even Further Beyond...**


End file.
